


Crown of Ice

by I_am_sorry



Series: No other life than this [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Sex, Conspiracy, Courtship, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Intrigue, Introspection, M/M, Master/Slave, Morally Ambiguous Character, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Secrets, Slavery, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_sorry/pseuds/I_am_sorry
Summary: A man who has lost everything, and a King who intends to put the world at his own feet.They met briefly in another life as equals, but that's no longer the case and now Klaus Kalte, who once was royalty, will learn what it really means to become a concubine.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: No other life than this [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611025
Comments: 26
Kudos: 52





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I want for anyone who start reading this work and this chapter in particular to know, that there is explicit rape in here, as well as mentions of previous rapes and abuse.  
> If it is not your cup of tea... Then yeah, this work may not be for you.
> 
> There's also thoughts about suicide.

Kalte didn’t know the hands that grabbed his hips that night, the night he arrived at _that horrible place_ , or the ones that followed in the subsequent nights. He arrived at the hospital for the sick of mind with no awareness of himself, his surroundings or his body. He felt nothing and in this capacity at the beginning at least, he didn’t suffer or hurt at all. That, that came later, as he adjusted to a life without powder or wine, as he came awake slowly but surely of what he had been once and what he was now.

As it seemed, now, he was nothing.

Trembling and begging for a little bag of opium, anything would have done at that stage –where everything hurt, and he felt chilled all the time, a cold so deep in stayed in his bones, in his blood, a cold that never went away.

And yet at night the hands kept coming –and Kalte still delirious from the side effects of not having consumed any powder for a while, didn’t really _understand_ what was being done to him when those hands grabbed his hips, lowered his back and opened his night clothes with little care.

In the beginning in fact, Kalte cared very little about the hands. He hurt, hurt like he never had hurt before, and he _needed,_ he needed white powder in his blood to make all that pain go away, he needed it with all his being, but the persons in the hospital never heard his pleas.

In those early days, he lived and died for the powder –and little else mattered. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep, he didn’t even knew his name sometimes, the only thing Kalte knew with security was that once the powder reached him, then he would feel better. But the powder never came.

It never came and the cold and the trembling continued, making him feel sick, and always in pain… until one day it stopped hurting that much.

And he stopped trembling and the need receded if only a bit.

And little by little his body went healing as it did his numbed mind.

And little by little, the need for powder became an ache that persisted but muted by distance and by many days without a single drop of it in his body.

By the six month in the hospital for the sick of mind, Kalte knew what his name was, knew he had had a brother and a sister once, knew he had loved many women through his life and only one man, a man who used to be a flower, knew he had been a King and now he was nothing, knew there was no getting away from this place –and knew what the hands were really doing to him night after night since the day he had arrived.

Kalte fought it at the beginning, when he finally understood. _The hands_ , the hands that grabbed him and pushed him down, the sickness in his gut at knowing… at knowing what the hands were doing to him –but it was no use. The hands hit him, inserted knifes in his tender sides, stuck needles with something that burned him from the inside, left him dizzy and numb, without strength at all. Sometimes the hands cuffed him to a bed in a solitary room and left him without water and food for days, only ever visiting at night to _push_ him down, again and again.

It never stopped and no one ever believed him when he said he used to be important once. He used to be someone; he wasn’t just this, _this_ pitiful thing that remained now in place of the king of Warf.

It was only ever white walls, and a sterile place. A hospital in the borders of what was once his kingdom –a place forgotten by time and circumstances, and no one would ever find him here.

And only a question remained inside him day after day… _why?_

How had he ended up in this kind of place?

Who had done this to him? Who hated him that much?

And of course by the end of the day, as always: Why? Why? Why?

He had no answers, in reality, he had nothing. Kalte feared to even forget his name in this place where every patient was just a number, and nothing more. 

It happened in one of the nights, as a man who worked in the hospital as cook, pushed him on the bed and for the first time in many months of different hands pushing him down in total silence, started speaking with him.

“I don’t even know if you can understand me,” The man said. “But I know what they are planning to do with you once a year is passed,”

The man was middle aged and had a common face –fair skin, and brown hair, rough hands and sympathetic eyes. Kalte guessed he was a head taller than the man as well.

Kalte didn’t speak anything as a response and the man sighed.

“Well,” The cook said, as he undressed slowly. “They are going to sell you to a brothel, and I frankly I don’t know who you are or what you are doing here but I do think you are not crazy,”

Kalte waited and after a while nodded briefly.

“I was thinking,” The man said already reaching for the bed and unlacing Kalte’s sleeping robe. “Instead of a brothel, wouldn’t you like to belong to me?”

Kalte didn’t speak again, he had learned early his words were unheard in this place anyway and so he had stopped trying.

“I can buy you,” The man told him, turning him onto his stomach and grabbing his hips.

Kalte closed his eyes tightly, and waited for it to be done.

“I would be a good master,” The man told him as he lifted him and impaled him in a single movement, while caressing his back.

_It hurt._

Kalte didn’t let out a sound and grabbed his tattered rugs to find purchase as the man behind him stated fucking him in earnest. He didn’t resist and he didn’t complain, he had discovered that by being silent the men left him alone faster. It was only the ones, women or men alike that fought more and resisted, the ones who got more attention and more than one visit per night. He had stopped fighting long ago.

The man behind him grunted, lost in hazy pleasure. “I can give you shelter and food. I don’t have a wife or kids, it would be only the two of us.”

Kalte bit his lower lip to not scream as a forceful shove propelled him forward on the bed. He felt the man groaning and reaching for him with the intent of giving him some pleasure. The cook was the only one who ever tried to make his flaccid length respond, although it never did. He shivered with disgust when rough hands starting caressing him in earnest, although it was no use. He didn’t feel a single spark of interest, not ever, not even by his own hand. And yet the hands, _the hands_ kept touching him, like slimy maggots all over his body.

It would be over soon, Kalte tasted blood inside his mouth as the man finished inside him with a long howl.

Once it was done the man caressed his sides, his hair and asked once again, “Would you like to be mine then, _golden boy_?”

\---

One of the few women who worked in the hospital nodded at him once she was done inspecting him for wounds. “You haven’t been hurt badly lately and you are in perfect health, the brothel will give us a good sum for you.”

Kalte covered his body after the revision was done, and forced his disused voice to work. “Brothel?” He asked roughly.

The woman stared at him with ill-concealed pity. “You poor bastard, I don’t know who you pissed to being sent to this hell hole but it’s already done,” She hugged herself and sighed. “You will be sold by the time the year is done and the brothel who already asked for you is a place very far away from this one.”

Kalte looked down at his hands, and asked the naivest question he could think about. “For how many years would I be sold?” He knew deep down the answer to that, and yet he wanted to hear it being said aloud anyway.

“Until your debt is complete,” The woman shrugged. “Which could be years or I don’t know really, maybe you can buy your liberty if you work hard enough,”

Kalte’s voice was barely a murmur when he said, _“A lifetime then.”_

The woman winced.

Kalte didn’t know if he would be able to manage it, a lifetime of being a slave, enduring rapes day after day after day, with no hope of escaping ever at all; And if he couldn’t do it… then what?

Was this pitiful existence enough excuse to take his life?

Was his solution… _dying?_

“I know it seems impossible to even imagine such a life, but there’s always hope, that’s what they say around?” She told him awkwardly, it was just her intent to placate her own conscience. “I know if you become a high profile earner of gold in a brothel, you are freed faster.”

He nodded. There was nothing else he could tell to her but a quiet, “Can I go now?”

“Yes,” She didn’t linger on him any longer; she had more patients to care for and Kalte could see, she was glad to end this difficult conversation now. “Yes you can go now.”

And he did go.

She could not help him and the painful truth was she didn’t want to either. It was not her business. So yes, he did go.

\---

Seconds blurred in minutes and minutes blurred in hours, hours became days and days became months and then one fine day by the beginnings of winter, Kalte was told to pack his meager belongings because he was going now, the owner of the brothel had come to pick him up. The man, the cook who had offered to buy him hadn’t managed to pay the sum of his worth and the director of the hospital had decided, it was time for Kalte to be gone anyway.

Before taking him with her, the owner of the brothel, a sturdy woman of red hair, asked to inspect him naked and so he was told he had to undress by her orders.

Kalte took off his robes in a little instant; he was used to undressing now.

“You look strong, a bit underweight,” She noted, caressing his neck with one painted red nail. “But handsome, _oh yes so very handsome_ , pale white skin, _golden hair everywhere_ , caramel eyes and a very sturdy build, and tall too. I will have dozens asking for you every night. You are definitely worth your price.”

Kalte trembled imagining that: dozens of men asking for him every night.

“Well yes, I will buy you and take you with me to my home country,” She had a bit of an accent, not from Warf… her way of speaking, she reminded him of…

“You don’t speak much,” She frowned. “Well, Solnce’s men don’t care for talkative whores anyway,”

Kalte didn’t say a word.

_…Vesna._

She nodded to herself. “Yes I am taking you with me. Do you have a name?”

Kalte closed his eyes, a hollow pain clawing at his chest. _“No.”_

She shrugged without major concern. “Well you can’t be going around nameless, so from now on you will be called as _Gold_.”

Kalte didn’t reply anything after that. He didn’t have anything left now, not even his name.

\---

Kalte was told he wouldn’t work his first week in Lila’s brothel. Lila, the owner told him, he would adapt first as best as he could and try to learn as much from the others in those seven days. The brothel was in one of the most luxurious towns of Solnce, it was no low place and that’s why Lila insisted on him being educated in their ways before even attempting to serve a customer. Lilas’s business was the best in what it did, and she would not tolerate failure.

By the time Kalte’s first night rolled around, he had already made peace with how he would die the following day; when one of the women who worked for Lila had promised to sell to him enough poison to kill a horse. People from Warf were beautiful always, but their pride was their great downfall, and his pride or at least what remained of it would not let him become _this_ –he only had to earn a little of coins from his first night to buy the poison and that would be it.

And then it would come… the blessed nothingness.

Kalte was prepared for his first night as carefully as he had seen prepared brides from Warf to their wedding day. He had been washed, perfumed, oiled and brushed until he could no longer stand it and his simple clothes had been exchanged for finery he was only to use during work. Solnce’s stile was vastly different from Warf, as his clothes showed way more skin than what was proper, the blue robe with patterns of little flowers in gold he had been given to dress, seemed more like a simple skirt, long on the back to the point it dragged on the floor and indecently short on the front, barely covering his privates, with a lone shoulder strap crossing towards his chest. He wore no shoes of any kind and he was given chains of jewelry to strap to his ankles as a lonely ornament.

Once he was deemed as ready, the women preparing him took him through a series of intricate halls with many fabrics draped as concealments of private rooms. Kalte couldn’t see much once he walked through it but from the sounds coming of those rooms, he could guess… Solnce’s important people were already in use of the place.

Kalte reached the room he was intended to go into, fairly quickly to his liking –but it would only be this nigh at least, he could take comfort in that.

And for a little moment he wondered, how this last night of his would turn out to be, if it would be an adequate ending for him?

In the end, he supposed he would accept the blankness of nothing after drinking the poison…

Kalte took a deep breath and entered his destined room; this _endless night_ of his would end soon.

\---

There were two men inside, one dark and the other fair haired, and Kalte glanced in their direction briefly. They didn’t look particularly old or particularly ugly and yet here they were, paying for something they couldn’t get for free. It was ironic and sad now that he understood it from the prostitute’s perspective. He supposed, he could fight them every step of the way; give them enough of a round, and die with dignity, taking in consideration some men got more aroused by such acts –or he could go limp, and quiet and let them use a broken doll without much fuss, although there also existed the risk of making the men mad with his little response.

While Kalte considered this, a third person entered the room.

“Well, you have seen him now,” Lila said, right behind him. “ _Gold_ is truly a sight to behold, isn’t he?”

One of the men, the one with darker hair nodded. “You really weren’t lying with this one, Lila.” He shifted in his cushions. “His build is that of a soldier or perhaps a worker of hard labor, not one of your usual frail boned boys.”

Lila beamed. “Yes, he is spectacular and he will be yours to do as you please for the night, only if we accord a price that is fair enough.”

“I will be the one to speak with you about coins, Lila,” The other man present in the room interfered.

She looked at him with a guarded smile. “Of course, it is always you who prevents this fool of getting robbed.”

The man with the dark hair rolled his eyes, “Just accord a prize already and be done with it, Den.”

“Stop thinking with your lower-half, Licht.”

Lila snorted. “Enough both of you, I want a thousand of gold coins for this one.”

Kalte just stared at her incredulous. It was, by any means just too much gold to pay for this kind of services. It did him no good to remember his former life, but it was a truth that he never paid so much.

The one called Den sighed. “Five hundred coins and my good will woman.”

“I don’t have use for your good will.”

“You never know, maybe one day it would come handy to have a member of the royal court on your side.” Den said with a small smirk.

“I will refrain,” Lila said, crossing her arms. “Nine hundred coins and that’s just because you are regulars.”

“ Six hundred,” Den offered without missing a bit.

“Two thousand gold coins and I will take him with me,” Licht offered finally with a contemplative look on his face. "I will take him to the palace as a gift for someone else, someone you know well."

Den inhaled sharply. "You can't possibly mean..."

Licht nodded, "I do. Who knows? It may be worth a shot. It could work in our favor too."

Lila narrowed her eyes. "You will really gift Gold to _him_?"

"You have my word."

Lila sighed, "Then Gold is yours for free, and don't forget to tell _him,_ it was a gift from me."

By hearing that, Kalte supposed it would take a little more effort from his part to die. He was to become someone's pet now, but... That too would last little.

He would make sure of that.


	2. The lonely king I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So by now, you know… the same warnings… un-betaed, this chapter has explicit F/M and M/M sex (Not Kalte), and thoughts about suicide, also this story deals with a man who’s had addictions and knows this.

_“Would you lie to me?”_

_“No my King, I would never lie to you,” Kennen said. She loved him, she loved him like the green loved the water, and like fire loved air, like a woman was supposed to love a man, and yet she wasn’t allowed to do even that._

_“Then, explain to me,” Osen asked wearily. “Why would you predict such a thing for my future?”_

_Kennen felt unhappy at being the one to bring such bad news at her king, because his pleasure was her pleasure, and his smile meant to her more than the sun shining in her skin in the rare days she decided to venture outside. And yet her predictions were never wrong, and she had seen this prediction today. It was just her King had asked and she had seen this unexpected series of events –she couldn’t ever change what she saw, only ever tell it._

_“I don’t know.” She answered truthfully._

_“Kennen,” her King called out to her, with kindness in his voice. “I hate to have you in here, all alone in the dark, always, always here. Whatever happens there’s not much we can do to change it, and so there’s no more use from this sacrifice of yours.”_

_She closed her pale, pale milky eyes. “There is always use.”_

_“Stop this nonsense now, go back home and find a suitable husband, have children and a blissful life.”_

_Oh yes! What had always been expected of her… but she just refused._

_“I can’t do that my King.” She told him with enough sadness. “For the first vision that I ever told you about to succeed, I have to remain this way until death comes for me. You know now how important it is for you that I remain this way forever,”_

_Alone, in the dark, always in the dark and never touched by any man and neither loved. But it would be worth it, for him, for her King, for her love. Osen deserved the world, and she was intent on giving it to him._

_“Kennen,” He called her again, and she turned to the sound of his voice._

_She remained always between cushions of silk and fine fabrics and she had been told her rooms were of beautiful colors. Osen had ordered for every aspect of her wing of the palace to be lovely and worthy of hers –she would never be able to see any of it though, not while her eyes were the price she had paid for her divination._

_“I am sorry you have to endure this for me.” Osen said sincerely._

_“It is an honor.”_

_“Will this you have told me affect any of the previous visions?”_

_Kennen blinked again, and yet it always remained dark. “No my King, this new and unaccounted success won’t change much of anything, and yet it will change you deeply. I cannot see farther than this, not yet, the futures as we speak, may be changing.”_

_“Thank you Kennen, you have done well, rest now.” Osen said while caressing her forehead._ _It felt like a blessing, it felt like love. And she could fool herself thinking it was exactly that, love._

_She smiled. It was worth it._

_It had always been, since they had been children playing in the gardens of the palace, and she had seen how much he was fit to have. The heavy burden of a crown in his little shoulders way too early for them to protest –he was destined for greatness and she was intent of making that happen, it didn’t matter how high the cost._

_It was just how it was supposed to be._

_\---_

Kalte stared at the men who had bought him, from his place on the floor in the left side, sitting and waiting from them to be done with their pleasure. They had each chosen a whore to entertain themselves for the night –and Kalte was told to wait while they finished their fun.

And even while in the middle of loud moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin –to Kalte it didn’t appear as if both men were happy.

He wondered, about the why of that.

A loud sound brought his attention back at the men. The fair-haired one, who had chosen a woman for the night, had changed positions, impaling the big-breasted woman on his lap harder. She moaned a little in pain, a little in pleasure and a little in show. She threw her head back, her long brown hair cascading her pale back while her big breasts bounced on display to be touched, kissed, and bitten; which the man fucking her did, without much passion and almost mechanically, playing with her, with his mouth and fingers –and in a moment there that seemed like a mere chore and not something that the man was enjoying.

Kalte stared at the scene with blank unfeeling amber eyes. He didn’t feel anything at seeing such a thing now, and he should, of course he should, he had loved fucking women once. He wondered if he was broken forever. He wondered if that even mattered now.

Once upon a time his body would have reacted to such sights, he was aware of this and yet now he felt nothing, only numbness as he stared at the generous curves of the woman trashing over the lap of the fair-haired man with abandon.

The sex seemed almost angry by then; Kalte blinked and turned his head to the other man –who in contrast had selected a boy to please him for the night. It was like seeing day and night seeing these two men, while the fair-haired man used the woman angrily –his black haired companion pleased the boy on his lap gently, and yet he didn’t seem really in _it_.

The boy trembled with hazy-pleasure filled eyes in the arms of the black-haired man. He kissed the neck of the boy softly while moving inside him in slow little shoves that had to be torture to the poor boy drooling on his arms.

The black haired man captured the boy’s lips in a soft kiss and the started moving his hips a little harder, making the boy yowl while bouncing up and down repeatedly and yet…

The act seemed detached…

Kalte frowned, neither man seemed happy fucking a whore. He wondered why to bother doing it, then.

In the end he supposed it didn’t matter, not to him at least, he closed his eyes and felt tankful that it wasn’t him the one pleasing the two men tonight.

It was a long night, filled with the moans and high-gasps of the whores and the grunts of the men. Kalte hugged his knees and waited for sleep to claim him but it really never did.

Morning came slowly but once it did, it was time to depart. The two men took him and placed him in one of the spare horses they had for their things.

The black haired one, the far simpler of two, offered him a little explanation before starting the trip. “We will visit a military settlement on the borders of the kingdom and then we will go back to the capital, it will be days but we will provide for you as much as we can. Once in the capital, we will explain your new role properly.”

The other man didn’t say much of anything, in a whole he seemed displeased with _everything happening_ in this trip. Kalte kept a close eye on him because he seemed the wisest of the pair. And as his father used to say, don’t fear strength but instead be wary of smarts, they are far more dangerous.

And yet nothing remarkable happened.

They traveled under the sun, and reached the settlement in a day and after that, they were offered quarters to rest and refresh –while utilitarian, the rooms at least had a bed, and Kalte was grateful for it. Whatever the two men were doing in this place wasn’t of his concern, and so he decided to eat and sleep, and to take notice of the military of Solnce’s Kingdom as mere curiosity. Before all this started he had never been much outside Warf, just little visits but nothing deep enough for him to take notice of a different culture.

Once their deed here was done, they would go to the capital and Kalte was under no illusion, his role would be something he would like to perform. No, it was obvious, he had been taken from the brothel yes, but his role in essence would be the same. A whore.

A sexual slave to be gifted, he supposed to a prominent political figure of the kingdom.

Kalte considered this. He was out, he was finally free of the brothel and of the hospital for the sick of mind –and if he played his cards carefully he could obtain another kind of liberty: Oblivion. It wouldn’t be difficult to obtain poison in the capital.

“You don’t seem happy,” The fair haired man startled him out of his thoughts.

Kalte was in his rooms, waiting for the two men to tell him whatever they had come to do was done, and that they were going back to the capital, and yet the announcement didn’t come that night.

“I am Den by the way,”

Kalte stared at him impassive, not knowing what to say. “Lila called me Gold.”

Den smiled but he didn’t seem amused. “I know how she calls you, but what’s your real name?”

Kalte considered this, it was a losing battle this one. He had no name now, didn’t think he deserved to conserve the one he had had before all _this_ happened. The name that had once belonged to a king was no longer his, _that man wasn’t him anymore_. “I don’t have another name.”

Den snorted. “Yeah, as if that would work with me. Maybe on Licht though, anyway you don’t have to tell me your name if you don’t want to.”

"I don't… want to,"

“That’s fine by me,” Den shrugged. “As long as you follow instructions that won’t be a problem. You can keep being this man called Gold if that pleases you.”

Kalte stared thoughtfully at him. “What do you intend by instructions?”

Den smiled. “You are no fool, my friend.”

“Would you prefer I be?”

“Not really,” Den looked down at his hands. Kalte supposed the conversation would die there, but Den surprised him by speaking after just some minutes had passed. “You won’t survive in Court if you are a fool, and we need someone sharp in there, someone who can be something more than just a pretty face.”

Kalte narrowed his eyes. “How can you know that I am what you need?”

“I don’t.” Den sighed. “But Licht must have seen something good in you or he wouldn’t have took you out from Lila’s, you won’t disappoint us.”

“What is my work supposed to be?”

“Apart from the _obvious_?”

Kalte nodded. “Apart from the _obvious_.”

The _obvious work_ , being having sex with his new master at any time it was needed, of course.

“You will report to us,” Den said with utmost conviction. “Every word said by your new master, or anything you hear about, people close to him, papers, anything. Your purpose is to always know what is happening around the man you are going to please. You will be our ears and our eyes in there.”

“You want a spy,”

“We prefer the term _close_ helper,”

Kalte didn’t think he would stay long enough to make it work, this request of them, but while he waited and obtained the poison needed to end it all for good, he supposed he could play along. “Why?”

“We will pay you.”

“I don’t care about gold,” Kalte narrowed his eyes. He had had a lot of gold before, he didn’t need it now, only for his poison but that would be easy to get. “That’s not what I am asking,”

“I suppose not. You don’t need to know.”

Kalte sighed. “It was worth asking,”

In the end he supposed he would have to make it work without much information, just for a little while anyway.

\---

The trip back to the capital was uneventful and Kalte noticed in passing how different in color, people and traits Solnce and Warf were. In some ways he shouldn’t feel surprised by this, because Warf wasn’t the only prosper kingdom in existence and yet while he had been king, that had seemed the case. In his eyes, only Warf had ever mattered and by the end of it all not even that.

While Warf palace was all white, a clean and sterile white fortress, Solnce’s was colorful in vibrant shades of purple, grey and gold. It bought back memories from home and his own palace, or the one that had been his palace once. Vesna had told him in one of those weird days where neither of them had been too hateful of the other, that some of the things he missed more about his home were the colors. And now that Kalte could see it, he had to admit, it was beautiful.

Solnce, the kingdom always filled with sun, and really close to the sea.

“Well, we will reach the palace soon,” Licht told him. “And we need you to behave as a man of your _profession_ would, and not like you normally do.”

Kalte lifted a pale eyebrow in surprise. “And how it is that I normally act?”

Den rolled his eyes. “You act like royalty, like you are merely granting us, low lives, a great favor with being here. You may be proud, and yes Licht thinks you are pretty and really well-built but… you can’t act like this in court. It would be too suspicious.”

“So before we reach the palace,” Licht added. “You need to show us a proper behavior.”

Kalte stared at them, understanding it and yet not really wanting to. It was idiotic. They were idiotic.

“I don’t know how else to act.”

Kalte really didn’t. He had been a King, a General and a strategist. He had been a medication-addict and an alcoholic. He had been cruel and sometimes in his better days, very rare days he had tried to be kind –he had been many things, but he had no idea about how to be what they were asking of him.

Den hummed. “Maybe like one lust-filled courtesan?”

“Or shy one?” Licht nodded.

Kalte rolled his eyes. “You both are idiots.”

The both of them looked at him with interest. “Well at least you have bite in you… that will be useful. We have to warn you, your master won’t be easy to please. He is a very private man with little patience, extremely smart, and he doesn’t take concubines often. His previous concubine died young and a long time ago, but it was well known, your master wasn’t in love with _him_ , some even said that’s what killed _him_.”

“Don’t fret.” Den told him. “We are always around, if you need something.”

“And,” After a pause Licht smirked. “Don’t fall in love with your new master at any cost.”

There wasn’t any hope of Kalte ever falling in love again of course, there was just madness waiting at the end of the so called-love, but still his curiosity won and he couldn’t help but to ask, “Why?”

“Because he will never love you back. He is not capable of it. He doesn’t know how.”

Kalte didn’t say anything else after that, and instead waited for them to take him to the palace. Once inside many guards saluted the two men warmly but with deep respect, which meant something Kalte had guessed since the very beginning, the both of them were soldiers or had military training.

He had suspected at much, seeing the way they moved, the way they held themselves.

“We will take you to some servants to bath you and get you ready for him.”

Kalte blinked. “Why do you care so much about this new master of mine?”

It wasn’t usual for military men to scheme like politicians of court. Soldiers didn’t had time or patience for those kind of back-stabbing games. There was little honor to have in politics.

Den answered curt. “You will know in time,”

“You just need to do what we tell you,” Licht added.

There wasn’t anything else to say after that. And once he was placed in the servants’ hands, the two men told him their goodbyes and explained he couldn’t be seen with them in public, they told him they would keep in contact somehow and then they went.

Kalte watched their backs disappear through one of the halls of the palace, like silent shadows –and wondered what it was that they were hiding.

Whoever he was set to serve had to be important…

“Young master,” One of the female slaves washing him, brought him back from his musings. “How should we call you?”

Kalte blinked, and noticed how four pretty girls washing his naked body did nothing to interest him. He closed his eyes, and sighed heavily. He was being prepared to serve a man tonight, and he would have to keep servicing him until he managed to get his hands on some strong poison.

“You can call me Gold,”

“It suits you,” One of the girls said kindly. “You are fair and golden all over. You are really handsome,”

Kalte opened one eye and said politely. “Thank you.”

The girl who had spoken to him, smiled and blushed, it was a pretty pink color on her cheeks –a color he knew in other circumstances would extend from her cheeks to her throat, and lastly to her breasts. In other circumstances and in other life, he would have felt hungry for her…

In other life she would have been easy to undress, he would have taken her that same night, in his rooms without a care for her pleasure. And she would have wanted him, all of them, _women_ , at the beginning always wanted him, the golden boy, the prince. _The King._

In other life she would have been just another warm body to fuck into…

It would have been so easy. To have her.

And yet, _this_ was another life.

So instead of smiling back, Kalte just closed his eyes, ignoring her disappointed face, and waited for them to be done with the bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be out by febrary but yes RL got in the way, in any case... I hope you are still with me, and yes, I know, the other MC is taking so long to appear… I would be frustated too, but sooon!  
> He will show up soon!  
> And the next chapter will be posted hopefully by the last week of march! Hopefully!  
> Also your comments make my day, so please talk to me!  
> Love feedback!


	3. The lonely king II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed.  
> And please always be aware of the warnings, and remember this work mentions themes as depression –a heavy one. If you are triggered by that then err better not read.
> 
> Also there’s a… uh thing, another important warning, but like I am not saying until you read the chapter but if you want the warning anyway, please go to the final notes.

Kalte was accustomed to white. It used to be what Warf meant to him, an all-consuming blankness. It took him some minutes to adapt to how much color Solnce seemed to have, even inside the sleeping rooms.

Kalte had been perfumed and cleaned and deemed ready to please his new master –and here he was inside this colorful room waiting for the supposed master to arrive, and hoping for it to be quick. _His master_ he hoped would go about this clinically hurried, just a need to satisfy and then to be done with the new slave. The night had to end sooner than later and after that…

Well, after that –day seemed better than night always.

Kalte didn’t know what to do with his hands. He couldn’t adopt his usual posture as a soldier or even less the posture he used to have as a king –and as for kneeling… he _couldn’t_ do it; maybe after a beating or two, maybe when his bones started to hurt after being trampled repeatedly, maybe then.

He waited awkwardly with his too revealing clothes instead, choosing to remain seated.

And after what seemed like hours finally, the door of this too colorful room opened, and Kalte could finally see.

The person who entered the room: his new master.

This person, wasn’t particularly tall and neither particularly strong-built. _He_ seemed frail-boned, with fair skin and a long lilac robe covering his body to just sleep. He was supposed to be important but he didn’t look the part, Kalte knew how he himself had looked back then, this golden king out of a fairy tale, that’s what the people used to say about him. The man before him lacked that, what he had seen on himself and even in the barbarian who had once ruled Karlann –this regal thing inside.

Black hair and lilac eyes, a shade darker than the ones Kalte had come to know so well.

His breath caught in his throat.

Life was interesting some times, and others it was just cruel.

Kalte knew this man, a little piece of his former life, fitting wrongly in this new one; like a broken shard of glass in a disjointed mosaic.

The man didn’t look like much, Kalte knew, yes _he_ was as pretty as his brother, and older but remarkably similar. The man, Kalte knew was impossible to read, always with distant eyes and a particular way of existing; the gossip about this person in the courts seemed to be vague, no one ever knew him really well, a peculiar man they used to say. And yet here before him stood Solnce’s bloody beating heart.

Vesna’s brother, and Solnce’s one and only king. A man to whom Kalte had promised to win a war once, a man to whom Kalte had promised a marriage (to Vesna).

It seemed like a bad joke.

But that wasn’t the case.

King Osen stood before him and extended a hand to his face, long fingers lifting up his chin to stare at him, noticing every little detail.

Ambar met lilac and Kalte had to blink, he wondered if Osen recognized who was the person he was touching, the one supposed to serve him that night.

“I thought they had given up bringing gifts to my room. It’s been a while since they tried this.”

Kalte didn’t answer anything at that.

What could he say?

_Help me? I used to be a king once... I was the man who ripped your brother apart._

“You have no voice?”

Kalte swallowed hard but remained stubbornly mute. What good would words do him?

Osen half-lowered his eyes-lid, considering. “You are pretty in a way, I suppose. All that golden skin, so, so soft to the touch and fair hair everywhere.”

“What should I do with you?” Osen asked tilting his head, his fingers still clutching Kalte’s face. “What should I do _to you?”_

Kalte blinked again.

“Fuck you?” Osen said bland. “Should I fuck you? Is that why you are here? You look like an over-priced whore, is that it what you are?”

Kalte gritted his teeth.

“Just a whore, are you? Just like your mother before you,” Osen said trailing his fingers carefully over Kalte’s face, and grabbing some soft strands of pale-yellow hair. He tugged at them softly. “You must be a whore, looking like you do, all that cheap paint on your face, after all you must know what that looks like, being that your consort ran away with his lover the day of your wedding. You two are way too alike.”

Osen intensified the pulling on Kalte’s hair, tugging down hard and leaving Kalte’s face up. “Look what the world did to you, you stupid _boy_.”

“Osen-”

“Look what you did to yourself.” Osen finally hissed.

And yes in that moment Kalte wanted to die out of shame. Osen knew who he was. There was no doubt about it.

“Vesna,” Osen roared, letting him go. “Vesna died because of nothing. You are not worth it. You are not fucking worth it, you piece of shit!”

And that was enough to make him speak. “Died?” He asked weakly, and so very, very afraid.

“He died after you went missing.” Osen spat.

“How?”

There was, there was no way –his wound hadn’t been fatal. Kalte had made sure of that. The healers had treated him accordingly, and he had been stable when they took him to Solnce.

“Some healers said, poison.” Osen snarled. “Others, unhappiness.”

Kalte wanted for the king to stop talking because every word hurt. It hurt. Vesna had been important; Vesna had been too good for him. Kalte could accept it now.

“I lament it deeply.” Kalte murmured, trying to contain the tears that he would not let fall.

“It isn’t enough,”

“That I know,”

Osen closed his eyes, and sighed profoundly, trying to become calm. He massaged the bridge of his nose. “Go change; take off the makeup, the jewelry and all the nonsense they thought I would like. And do not be late, you have five minutes to be back in here.”

And Kalte did what he was told in minutes, not wanting to think too deeply about anything (he didn’t want to think about it), and fixed himself to be bare of anything offending to the king; opting for washing his face quickly and wearing a simple combination of light-blue linen pants and a pale white linen blouse.

\---

“Warf stands bloody and battered but healing after the war. Your brother inherited everything. You were announced as dead after your Orchide ran away with his lover. Hart said you had been killed by their hand.” Osen spoke clinically, just stating facts while he sipped herbal tea, and explained to Kalte how things stood now that he was just another man, and not a king. “Your sister, she got married this past spring, I didn’t attend but some of my nobles did. She married a political figure of Karlann, some sign of good faith.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

_Treating me like I am still me?_

Osen frowned and in that moment he looked so similar to Vesna, Kalte had to look away. “You don’t want to know?”

“Vesna,” Kalte dropped his shoulders in defeat and looked down at his feet. “I would like to know about him before anything else.”

“He died ten months ago,” Osen said, there was no emotion in his voice. “And even though I would like to hang you from the walls of my castle and make you responsible for this, I won´t do that.”

Kalte looked at him –Osen was still sipping tea and looked like a man who did not feel much of anything while talking about his little bother’s death, with bare feet and a robe too big on him, he looked alone and small, and like a complete paradox.

“Why?”

Osen put his teacup down, and regarded him carefully. “Because you are not the sole responsible, my little brother tried to make you his world. _Love doesn’t work like that_. He was broken before he met you; his death was just the culmination of his own sadness and weakness.”

Kalte stared at his tea; he wasn’t fond of the beverage. He wondered if he had to drink it just to please Osen. “I regret many things. Vesna and my history with him… that’s one of the biggest regrets I have.”

“Don’t,” Osen told him, not looking at him, “Don’t regret my brother, it would have made him sad.”

“Can I?” Kalte swallowed a heavy node on his throat and a bothersome burning behind his eyes. “Can I go visit his resting place?”

Osen paused, and then nodded. “You can, I will show you tomorrow, maybe.”

“How can you be so calm about it?”

Osen looked at him, and his gaze was hard. “I have had ten months to come to terms with it. He wasn’t yours alone, whatever he thought, he was my brother too and I, I should have done better by him.”

“I thought you didn’t care about him at some point.” Kalte admitted. He had even yelled it at Vesna’s face.

“You don’t know me.”

“No. No, I don’t.” Kalte shrugged. “I was blind to many things before.”

“I know.”

There was silence for a while after that, until Kalte decided to ask again. “His last days?”

“He didn’t eat,” Osen blinked, lost in memories. “He didn’t sleep, he didn’t accept anyone close to him but me, at some point he stopped to care about the world around him and I could do nothing to bring him back,”

“If I had been…”

“There’s no use in useless wishes, it’s done.” Osen shook his head. “Vesna is at peace now,”

“You say you won’t kill me,” Kalte asked. “I can’t go back to my previous life, whoever did this to me took precautions to make it impossible, and I wouldn’t know how to become king again anyway…”

Osen didn’t say anything but waited for him to continue his thoughts; he was the picture of refined elegance and total nonchalance –his chin over his hand, and his feet dangling over his chair.

“What happens with me now?”

“You are mine now.” Osen told him easily. “And just in time, you will be useful. I need eyes and ears in the court for now, in fact, you being here stops my impending search for a concubine. It’s remarkably appropriate in fact.”

Kalte tensed but didn’t say anything. He was supposed to be spy for the men who brought him as well. He didn’t know what kind of games these men were playing and he had just landed in the middle.

\---

Vesna’s resting place was beautiful. There was greenery all around and Kalte supposed Vesna would have liked it, had he seen it.

His tomb was under the shade of a cherry tree, and it was all pink. Vesna used to be fond of the color; he wondered if that’s the reason _he_ had been buried in this place. Kalte didn’t know what to say once in front of it and Osen didn’t say a word right behind him.

He had spent the night in the king’s bed but it had been him alone, because Osen hadn’t even tried to approach him, he worked mostly all night and when he finally got ready to sleep way past midnight, he simply climbed the same bed, gave his back to Kalte and feel asleep.

It had been surreal in a sense, but Osen hadn’t let him go back to the servant’s rooms. Kalte had a role to play, and the king expected for that role to be believable. Kalte didn’t know what to make of the situation.

It could have, certainly, been worse.

“I have come to say,” Kalte murmured. “Greetings.”

There was no answer of course, but Kalte felt the wind rustling the pink leaves and his hair, and hoped for Vesna to hear him out, wherever he may be.

“And I have come to ask forgiveness as well.”

Kalte closed his eyes and touched the cold stone of the tomb, kneeling and hoping, just hoping to… become a better man than the one whom Vesna had known.

It was a lovely place, full of flowers and plants but so secluded, Kalte didn’t think many people came to pay respects. He didn’t ask the reason of it, but he promised, if (while) he stayed he would come constantly, at least to say…

“I hope you sleep well. May it be forever a restful peace.”

The wind moved again, and between the beginnings of spring, Kalte remembered a memory out of snow: of two men dancing and making the world and themselves a little less sad. He remembered cold and snow, two ways of dancing, how the ball of a wedding would have been and finally saying goodbye. He would have loved to see Vesna smile even once for him. He would have loved being another man back then, a different one.

Vesna had always deserved better.

“Do you think,” Kalte glanced behind where the king stood. “He isn’t hurting anymore?”

“He must be at peace,” Osen shrugged. “That’s all I can hope.”

Kalte nodded and the wind stirred again, making some of the pink leaves fall over Kalte’s head –and Kalte wanted to think, it was Vesna way of saying greetings back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Character death.
> 
> Just so you know I had thought before you don’t need to read HOS before this one, but now I am wondering if that’s really the case? Hmmm I think it would make some things clearer if someone is only reading this story and hasn’t read the other one but Idk, like I am not sure.
> 
> Anyway, as always … love comments!
> 
> And just to say… I am in a new fandom, kinda, lowkey, stalking, haha, isn’t that nice?!


	4. The lonely king III

Kalte stared with hesitation at the bed, and at the man who had told him just some seconds before, to rest in it. He didn’t understand why they kept doing this –today was his sixth day since he had arrived to Solnce’s palace and every night without exception, he was expected to sleep in the same bed as the king, but it was just really to do that, _sleep._ Osen hadn’t hinted even once at an initiating something sexual with him, and yet he was expected in the king’s room every single night.

Kalte didn’t ask, he didn’t think it would be in his place to, and even if he did, Osen could very well choose to not answer.

“How is your new life going, _concubine_?” Osen asked while he too got ready to sleep in his side of the bed. There was no ill intention behind his words just pure curiosity.

Kalte blinked, he was not used to hearing Osen’s voice much, he just shared a little time with the king by night, before sleeping, and the rest he almost never saw him. Osen’s tone of voice was quiet, an educated kind of voice. “I thought I was expected to work by day in something else aside from being your concubine, but no one has wanted my help. All the servants insist I must do nothing but be with you all day and all night and by day I don’t know what is that you do,” Kalte frowned, “Or where you go.”

“A concubine life is _hard_ ,” Osen said with a hint of amusement in his voice. He was joking. “Just looking pretty by day, and sweating at night.”

Kalte swallowed hard, but didn’t say anything to that.

Osen rolled his eyes. “I would have touched you by now if that was my intention, silly boy.”

And maybe Kalte shouldn’t have say a word regarding that but he couldn’t help it. “I am not a boy.”

“You are younger than me,” Osen said finally climbing the bed. “And that makes you a boy in my eyes.”

“I fought a war, already.”

“You lost a war. There’s a difference.”

Kalte couldn’t very well defend against that. He opted for turning on the bed and giving his back to the king, and thought it was better if he stared at the big room he was currently sleeping in –the vibrant colors of the walls even in the dim light of candles hurt his eyes, square and circular patterns and carefully knit ornaments in the fabrics made room look even more elegant.

“Now you won’t defend your posture?”

Kalte blinked, shifted on the bed and faced the king again. “Why do you even take time to talk with me? Don’t you hate me?”

They were civil, and Kalte could even say Osen was polite towards him –but he knew it shouldn’t be that way. If someone had hurt Primel or even Hart as bad as Kalte had hurt Vesna, he wouldn’t rest until that person had paid dearly.

“I don’t win anything by hating you. It’s not practical.”

Kalte wriggled his fingers in front of the king’s face, and sighed. “I think you should.”

“Just go to sleep, _Kalte_ ,” Osen grabbed his fingers, stared at them and then let Kalte’s hand go. The king who hadn’t moved at all since lying down said. “It will get better, maybe not tomorrow, but someday.”

“You should hate me.”

“You do that enough for the both of us.”

\---

Kalte knew that doing what he was doing wasn’t what was expected of him but he was bored. Eight days and some hours and he still didn’t have anything to do, so he helped around the servants. He dressed as a servant as well, with soft linen light blue pants and a simple white blouse with Solse’s insignia painted on his right.

Kalte was strong enough to lift boxes and move heavy things around when some of the women in the kitchen asked it of him. It made him feel useful and the women in the kitchen where nice, old and almost motherly, they give him food after he was done helping them. He supposed it was nice being treated that way, as his mother had never been extremely kind to any of her three children, and he had never truly had motherly love. Kalte had always suspected his parents hadn’t been awfully happy together. There had always been rumors in Warf’s Court of how the Kalte’s father had always been in love with someone else.

“Would you like to eat now?” A elder woman who had just asked him to move some things for her, asked.

Kalte hesitated and finally shook his head. “Maybe later, thank you.”

The woman patted his arm and went on her way. “Oh just one thing before I go,” She stopped and grabbed a little bag that was hiding in her pocket. “I was told to give you this by my superior, she didn’t say what it is but she did say to give it to you.”

Kalte took it, and studied it carefully. The bag wasn’t very big and it had a little note inside. He unfolded the note and began to read:

_There are ten seeds of pink trees in this bag; I hope you do something good with them. They will grow slowly but so will you, don’t disappoint me---_

“Thank you for passing the message,”

“It’s just my work boy,” She smiled, shrugged and went to keep cooking.

Kalte had a brief idea of who had sent the seeds. The writing was immaculate cursive, a pretty kind of writing he supposed fit for a king. Looking at the note a second time, he also knew where to plant them, at least the first two.

After Kalte’s work in the kitchen was done, he walked around the enormous palace gardens until he reached the most secluded place, a little garden full of cherry trees, and other sort of flowers with green all around. It took him a while to find it but once he did, he felt at peace. Vesna’s resting place was beautiful. He walked carefully towards the tomb and paid his respects to then sit beside it. He had many things to say but he didn’t know how to start.

“Your brother is an estrange man, Vesna,” Kalte spoke to the wind mostly. There was just silence around him. “I don’t understand him.”

Kalte stared at the bag of seeds in his hands. “I will plant some trees for you. I think you would have liked that.”

And once again there was no answer, and he knew, of course, that there would never be.

“I still can’t forgive myself, however.”

The seeds in his hand shined as he inspected them. Kalte did like plants, he had always liked being outside; riding and sparring had been what his life consisted of when he was little, he had been trained for physical strength since a very young age –and in his spare time he had learned how to grow things from earth too, it had started with his fascination with the real _Orchide_ plant, but then he had accumulated more kinds of plants and it had become something of a pastime. As he grew older though, other interests (women mostly) took him eyes away from such simple enjoyment.

It was time to start again though, all over from such simple things. It was a good start.

\---

Kalte entered the king’s rooms, looking down at his dirty clothes. He had no other clothes to change into and he couldn’t very well sleep in the king’s bed in such state.

“You are late.” Osen told him, perched in one of his resting chairs. He was playing with a fine fabric between his fingers, dressed in dark purple finery that looked almost black, and thigh-high black boots.

Kalte stared at him with doubt. “You are not dressed for sleeping yet.”

Osen’s purple eyes got a shade darker. He was still perfectly dressed, even his short black hair was still perfectly styled. The king was displeased but he hid it well. “We won’t be sleeping tonight. There’s a party _Arc_ organized in my honor, and all Court is there. They are waiting for me to properly start it though. Get cleaned and changed fast, or Court will start saying I have no interest in presenting you as my _Concubine_ formally.”

Kalte nodded and hurried to take a bath. Osen sent him two maids to help him prepare, and along with them the fine fabric he was playing with before. It was light-purple colored, and very similar to the one he had used the first night in the palace but with some significant differences –the skirt was still awfully long on the back but wasn’t indecently short in the front now, almost reaching towards his knees and instead of his chest being nude, the piece had a kind of blouse made of different types of chiffon that covered up to his navel.

After being dressed, he stopped the maids from applying makeup on his face, and accepted the jewelry to his naked feet, wrists and ears. The jewelry was heavy gold.

Kalte didn’t accept the mirror handed to him, he preferred to no stare at his reflection these days.

Once ready, Kalte hurried towards the king who waited for him just outside the baths. He seemed utterly disgusted at the way his night was turning to go. It was an idea but Kalte thought it was possible, the king didn’t like his Court very much.

Osen stared at him with detached purple eyes. "It's well known along the five Kingdoms that Warf's people are beautiful but I had never paid much attention to the rumors, at least until now." The king nodded towards Kalte. "You do indeed look the part you are about to play, although I warn you, you may have to endure some of my _ardent_ affections while we are in front of the nobles."

Kalte clenched his fists and tried to calm himself, his fast beating heart. He knew this moment would come and yes, he was afraid.

"Don't look at me like that. I am just going to touch you enough for them to believe you are what you say to be. I have no intention of fucking you, here or there, be at ease."

Kalte relaxed slightly at the king’s words, and walked closer to him. He hesitated but in the end, he supposed it would be good for him if Osen won whatever battle he was preparing to have in that party. An unhappy king was never good news to his slaves, Kalte knew this painfully well. He remembered some of his worse times as former king, perhaps too well, he hadn’t been kind to them, slaves. "Is there something I should do to help?"

Osen looked at him and touched his face lightly. The king's fingers were cold. "Don't leave my side. Many will wait to have a taste of you, I won't allow it. But bear with my touch."

Kalte nodded his understanding and swallowed a hiss when the fingers touching him turned cruel, and tightened around his jaw with surprising force for someone as slim as the king. It hurt. "Bear my touch, be it painful or amorous. It will over soon _Kalte,_ _and then we will come back to sleep._ _"_

_Kalte closed his eyes. It had been a while since he had heard his former name._

\---

There were many slaves in the party. All of them beautiful and wearing similar clothes as Kalte, the only difference was, their clothes didn’t cover much of anything. Didn’t afford much modesty. Some females didn't wear anything to cover their breasts, just the usual skirt short on the front and exceedingly long on the back, while some other women wore a little chiffon piece covering the minimum on their torso. All the males however were chest-bared, some had the skirt and some were naked totally. All the slaves however had jewelry on them, many pieces of it.

Kalte knew he looked like an oddity with so little of his skin on display. Many slaves stared at him with low curiosity, while some others, the more cunning of the lot, stared at him with sharp eyes evaluating his worth: _the Courtesan serving the king had to be something special, surely? Could they maybe take his place? What were they lacking? What was his charm?_

Kalte followed behind Osen silently, his bare feet agile enough to keep up with the speed of the king. He also felt suddenly grateful for all the fabric the other had gifted him --because while all slaves stared at him with evaluating eyes or just plain nosiness, the eyes of their masters seemed immeasurably hungry over him. A hunger so deep as if they were starving for new meat, it made him shiver at the mere thought of what they could to him if he lost Osen's tentative protection.

"Look at you," A lithe woman dressed, in many layers of pinkish fine clothes talked to the king. "Just in time for the main event and with company to enjoy it too. Never thought I would see the day, Osen. Just like any of us."

Osen glanced at her, his eyes were cold. He seemed almost untouchable to anyone right there. "So kind of you to fix this feast in my honor, _Arc."_ The king walked forward and took his seat by the center of the room. This wasn’t the throne room, Kalte knew as much. This room was different, as lavish and full of colors as any other in the palace but not as solemn, as the one Osen lived his days in. He followed quickly behind the king and never lifted his head.

The woman called Arc smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. She was a fair lithe woman with short silver hair, so very young and also petite. She looked like one of those fairies, Primmel liked so much to stare at in her fantasy books. Just not the good kind, though. There was a hunger in her as well, it was just… more than lust, it looked like greed. She didn't seem like good news.

Kalte waited by Osens side, and startled a little when the king's had grabbed his waist and brought him close.

"Sit on my lap." Osen ordered softly so that only Kalte managed to hear him. 

He did as he was asked and soon enough he had Osen's mesmerizing voice talking to his ear. 

"The main event will start soon, Arc and the whole Court will be interested in watching us. I may have to go overboard, but rest assured my word stands. I won't fuck you and neither will any of them."

Kalte breathed deep, and relaxed over the king's lap. The woman Arc was watching them vigilantly from her side of the Court, like tigress waiting to sink her claws in weak tender flesh.

It was going to be a long night.


	5. The lonely king IV

The main event of the party turned out to be an acting-play. Kalte had seen some of those back in Warf but he had never had much interest in such matters, and it was also a fact that he hadn’t been sober enough back then to appreciate acting-plays. He hadn’t been sober enough to appreciate much of anything.

Everyone in Court seemed extremely interested in the play happening right in the center of the room. Kalte didn’t understand much of it, it was the life-story of someone, he understood as much but aside from that, there wasn’t much he was getting out of the play. It also didn’t help his predicament that the play was wordless, only music accompanied the actors who danced through a sort complicated scenes. Solnce was really a strange culture for him and it showed in more ways than one.

Kalte closed his eyes, Osen’s hands were clutching at him quietly. Unobtrusively. He shifted in the king’s legs, but paid no attention to the play or the curios eyes of other slaves looking at him.

Kalte’s peace lasted little though. The music changed tune abruptly, from soft to wild, and suddenly Osen’s hands started clutching at him with intent. The demeanor of the king didn’t change one bit, but the strength in his hands increased. It felt, as if the king wanted to break him, crush his veins and bones. It hurt and yet, Kalte remembered very well, the only thing Osen had asked of him. _Endure my touch._

Kalte opened his eyes and tried to see what had caused such a change in the one holding him. The play was currently telling the story of a young black-haired male, wearing purple and looking lost. A series of dances happening around him, and many actors with different ornamented masks and different shades of colored clothing pulling at him from different directions. They pulled at him from his hair, his arms, his legs, and his clothes –all in different directions. The young actor looked sad and so very anguished, Kalte had to frown.

“Madness!” Someone shouted from the other side of the Court with actual delight. A woman’s voice. “Such a tasteful form of acting what madness must feel like for those who are sick of the mind, don’t you think so my king?”

Kalte felt Osen’s fingers pressing into his flesh with renewed fervor. The king’s fingers were tearing skin, and Kalte could feel little drops of blood starting to flow from the affected areas. Still, he tried to keep his face even. No one would be able to notice how hard the king was clutching at him from the angle they were sitting in. 

“I am ecstatic to be seeing such nonsense instead of being in my room, fucking my new slave, _Arc._ I really am, you have to believe in my word.” Osen drawled with irony, making some nobles laugh in good spirits. They could understand Osen being upset at not being using his new slave, and sympathized with him greatly.

The woman called Arc, however, wasn’t smiling. Arc’s eyes were dark with intent. “I am sure you can do anything you like to the slave even here. No one would complain at you having your fun.”

Kalte tensed in the king’s arms.

“Don’t worry _Arc_ , I plan to do whatever I want with him here or anywhere I may like, without a care for your opinion.”

And yet Osen didn’t do a thing. Kalte relaxed once again and waited for the play to be over, so they could go back to the king’s rooms and sleep.

The play happened and ended in a sequence of movements and music. Kalte still didn’t get a single thing out of it, but as the play ended, the king touched his arm softly in a series of taps. It seemed like a warning and so Kalte waited for whatever was to happen.

As the actors finished bowing to the applause of the Court, they faced the king and bowed once again. The oldest of the lot of actors spoke with great respect but his voice was firm as he said, “It would be a great honor for the company if you took one of our youngest actors as a _protégé,_ your Majesty.” 

The youngest actors being at least four, one girl and three boys. One of them was the one who had played protagonist on the play. They walked forward and bowed in front of them.

“We have heard you have no official _Concubine_ just yet, the young slave in your lap is not even marked yet as yours so, we thought about offering, respectfully.” The same man continued with tasteful manners. “They are beautiful as you can see, healthy and very interested in entering your service.”

Kalte hadn’t expected that. It seemed, for some odd reason, everyone was intent of getting a Concubine for the King of Solnce.

Osen nodded. “Yes, he has not a formal position just yet, and that makes it fair of you to offer me, your finest actors but I am sure my new slave here would have some complains about that, don’t you _Med_?”

The actors stared at him with intent and Kalte had to think of what to say to avoid their wrath. “We don’t need anything else at the moment, other slaves or protégés, we are happy with each other at the moment. Thank you for offering but we decline.”

“B-but we--”

The murmurs of the other pampered slaves spread throughout the room, like wildfire. It was hard to believe the insolence of this dirty slave from another land. _‘Just who did the slave think he was?’_ speaking as if he too was royalty. It was unacceptable.

Osen’s lips twitched with amusement. “As you can see, he is a hard to please this one. Worth every tantrum too,” Osen’s fingers trailed inside his skirt, showing the actors what they were expecting to see, as the king placed slow lingering kisses on Kalte’s neck. The hand wasn’t even close to any sensitive part, just barely touching his leg but the actors had no way of knowing that. Osen had kept his promise –but Kalte supposed he had to help with the acting or risk, ridiculing this strange man who had offered him room to be, not a real whore in the end.

Kalte closed his eyes, tilted his head to give the other more room, and emitted a low moan that he hoped sounded just needy enough. He hoped it sounded real too.

“We are sorry for being rude then, your majesty.”

Osen just waved a hand distractedly and ordered calmly. “Just get out. All of you. Even Court, get out! I’m bussy.”

“Tch, you are no fun,” Some noble called out but Osen waved him away again. And they did go, because in the end the man holding him was the most powerful in the whole Kingdom. No noble ever wanted to anger their king.

After they were left alone, with a hissing Arc being the last one to leave, Osen explained how, they would have to wait for a while until everyone really believed they had been fucking, to be able to leave the room.

***

"You should go to sleep," Osen told him after Kalte had changed into his simple nightclothes, taking off the expensive courtesan attire. It was well past midnight, already. "I will be reading a little while, but I'm sure, it won't disturb you too much."

It wasn't as if Kalte was extremely tired either. He approached the empty side of the bed and climbed up with curiosity. "What are you reading?" 

It didn't seem like work related papers. Kalte knew about such things and remembered how it was to rule a country, remembered how much paperwork it involved. He had hated the form-filling side of ruling.

"It’s just nonsense." Osen answered quietly.

Kalte blinked at the book in the king's hands. "It looks like poetry." 

Sie had, had one of those books. Kalte could recognize the ornamented cover and the particular smell of leather. Kalte used to detest such books. Maybe because, those poems made Sie expect things from him. Things he couldn't give.

Osen nodded. Elegant fingers flipping through the pages of the book without much interest. "It is poetry, and just because of that is nonsense."

Kalte hesitated. "Why read it, then?"

"Why not?" Osen answered with a shrug.

"You alone are enough to me. You and you alone in this world," Kalte nodded towards the tome in Osen's hands. "You and you alone in this world are the beat of my heart. You and you alone would make the sky turn colorless in absence. You and you alone, my love."

“Chapter twenty of this tome, _a colorless sky_ ,” Osen said. “You had a great education, you know about poetry but is only to be expected, is it not?” Osen looked at him, calmness reflected in his eyes. “I can read the poems aloud if you prefer, I don’t mind helping you sleep.”

For some reason this night, the king seemed out of sorts. Kalte could not understand it but he guessed he didn’t have to. He didn’t mind the king’s voice either.

“I will just close my eyes while hearing your voice, then.”

“Any poem in particular?”

 _Sing me a lullaby._

“Not really. I don’t have a favorite. Never really, understood much of poetry.” His life had been more about fighting, he supposed. Fighting his feelings, fighting for an Orchide he thought dead. Fighting himself and his inadequacies.

“I will read my best then, Kalte, just for you.”

“ _Just for me.”_

“Mmm.”

And just like that, the purple king started reading out of an old poetry book to the once white king who had fallen from grace. Just a little story forgotten by time, but who would be able to tell?

A little fairytale.

“As winter melts and becomes spring, my feelings for you start to grow, it’s a lonely world, just empty words, a loneliness so deep it’s rooted in my core,” Osen’s voice was soothing, and had an elegant timbre. “As winter melts and spring arrives, would you ever stay? Even if I am the king of this lonely room. Chapter thirteen, _the lonely king._ ”

Kalte blinked and looked at the ceiling. “Do you think the person stayed?” 

Osen closed the book with a soft tap. “No, he didn’t. This book was written before the five kingdoms existed as such. When these lands, were what we used to call an empire and the savage tribes plus their annexed the northern ones fought all the time. The king of that empire fell in love and wrote eight hundred pages of poems for his lover, but, he wasn’t loved back. His lover stabbed him in the back and proclaimed the empire as his own at the end.”

Kalte glanced at the king at that moment. Somedays, Osen looked so much like Vesna, it was difficult for him to remember he wasn’t in Warf and there wasn’t a snow-storm howling outside. Although Osen never wore women’s clothing, their profiles were similar enough. “How unfortunate.”

“The lover was a Concubine, Aren’t you interested a little more on how this story progressed?” Amusement dripped from Osen’s words. “It may work in your favor if you did.”

Kalte rolled towards the king being careful of keeping a proper distance. “I’m listening.” Amber eyes shining petulantly.

Osen laughed freely at that. “Well, it’s said the Concubine was an expert in matters of lust, could drive a man insane with it. You are lacking in that area _Med_.”

Kalte’s eyes narrowed. “What does _Med_ means?”

“It means _honey_ , thick, gold-amber and sweet. A name fitting for my beloved Concubine, don’t you think so?”

“I am not good at being _that_ , but you have noticed already, and still you would like to keep me?”

Osen looked at him carefully. There was some seriousness on his beautiful face. “I won’t offer to write you eight hundred pages of poetry but I offer you protection. No one will touch you, Kalte, not while you are under my shield, the only thing I need from you is loyalty and to play coy with Court. It shouldn’t be too difficult.” The king put the book on the small table close to his side of the bed and then extended his fingers to the other person. A nimble finger caressed a lock of golden hair from Kalte’s head. “You can even have a lover or more if you wish, just being careful you are always available if need you to do something for me.”

Kalte shuddered. He remembered the hands, and the rancid smell of the men who had used his body for sex in the hospital for the sick of mind. “I am not interested in having a lover at the moment.”

“Later then, when you need it, for comfort. I have heard some rumors, and while rare there are some nobles who are kind to their slaves.” Osen offered again. “I can give you anything you wish, anything within my hand and my kingdom but with this I can’t help you. Love and comfort to quell the _loneliness_ , that, you will have to look for elsewhere.” 

Kalte remembered then, that before him had existed another Concubine, one who was said to die of unrequited love for this very man who was talking to him about taking a lover. If that Concubine had been in love with the king and he had received this same talk, disinterest and kindness alike, it was no wonder, he must have hurt and experienced a high heartbreak. _“Don’t fall in love with your new master. He is incapable of it, of love.”_ The man who had taken him from Lila’s place had told him. “If I ever need it, _comfort_ , I will let you know my choice of lover.”

“Are you willing to bear my name on your skin?” Osen asked and his eyes were the shining color of wisteria under the moonlight. “Are you willing to be mine _white king_?”

“I am cold.”

Osen stared at him with doubt.

“I have been cold from a long time.” Warf and its snow. The pills, the wine. A chill so deep in his bones. “Fix the cold for me and I will be whatever you wish.” He could get it all back, power, lovers, pills, wine, anything he wanted to consume to feel numb again. To forget he was no longer Kalte, to forget he had been raped in a hospital for almost a year without anyone caring a bit. That he had been betrayed, forgotten, used and abandoned. That Vesna no longer existed in this world and that Sie had left him without remorse. “I am cold.”

“I’ll keep it away from you. The cold, if that’s your biggest wish.”

Kalte’s amber eyes opened in surprise at feeling Osen move and shift on the bed. He ended up in the other's arms. The king’s scent was particular, something like lavender and something like the fresh snow he used to see falling at home, familiar and estrange at the same time. The hug felt warm and after the surprise gave way, he thought it wouldn't be so bad. This type of drug would not destroy him, not completely. This type of drug: having someone faking to care for him. Kalte didn’t even understand the man who was holding him tightly but he supposed he could try. In the end he had little to lose.

“You wouldn’t be of _use_ to me drugged or inebriated.”

Kalte closed his eyes and relaxed in the king’s arms. The cold had receded once again. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just finished writing, and posted so probably has more mistakes than usual. If you read and comment, kudo, or follow, well, it motivates me a lot…
> 
> Let me know your thoughts! If you want.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes... Yes I know, I know.  
> This is Kalte's story.  
> And I hope to share it with you.  
> I love feedback! 
> 
> See you soon--


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